


Full Service

by LuckyWantsToKnow



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: But not in this fic necessarily, F/F, Hair salon wackiness is a thing, Nicole is soft and reckless, Waverly speaks Greek, Waverly's intelligence is not to be trifled with, it was supposed to be a oneshot, smut ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyWantsToKnow/pseuds/LuckyWantsToKnow
Summary: Waverly’s seated in front of the mirror and Nicole is combing out her hair. She’s gentle and slow about it and Waverly snaps her own mouth shut when she realizes that she’s gawking at the stylist like she’s a piece of meat. Nicole continues to take her time, hoping it’s not super obvious that she has no idea what she’s going to do next.“Bangs,” Waverly decides suddenly.“Bang?” Nicole looks up sharply.I took a silly idea about a hair salon and turned it into a fluffy-to-smutty WayHaught fic. Don't be mad at me.





	Full Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comelayinmybed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comelayinmybed/gifts).



> OK look, writing this fic was an interesting lesson in humility. My friend @comelayinmybed, had a great idea about a hair salon called Haught Heads, and obviously Nicole Haught was involved. Also, Waverly Earp got bangs for Season 3. Well, cocky ol' me decided it would be nothing to just bash out a one shot and basically stole her idea (she's not mad). Three agonizing months later I have a much better understanding about how hard it is to take an idea and put it down on paper. If I didn't already respect fanfiction writers (and I have the good fortune of working with some great ones), well... I really do a lot more now.  
> I want to thank both @comelayinmybed (ComeLayInMyBed on AO3) and @dubiousorange17 (Orange17 on AO3) for editing and encouraging. They're both great writers you should read anyhow. This one is for you SC. As for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy this little thing.  
> You can find me on Twitter @LuckyWantsTo

Nicole sits playing on her phone, spinning side to side in the salon chair, essentially killing time. Her sister has left her “in charge” at Haught Heads Hair while she runs home for lunch. The responsibility is not a great one; as the only high end beauty salon in Purgatory the demand is…less than overwhelming.

She’s just decided to use her time to enhance the salon’s Instagram with some of her own artfully filtered snapshots, when movement on the street outside catches her eye. Petite and athletic with what Nicole’s sister would call “hair for days”, an attractive young woman walks briskly past the salon windows.

Nicole’s only been in Purgatory for about a month, but she knows it fairly well. Her sister lives in a beautiful sprawling ranch house about six miles out of town. Her in-laws, the Tates, have apparently lived in Purgatory for generations and raise expensive organic beef cattle. They make plenty of money to support an ambitious business endeavor such as a beauty salon. Purgatorians are decidedly pragmatic when it comes to fashion and that extends to their hairstyles. Those few residents desirous of a fancier haircut or more en vogue clothing have typically driven to the Big City and made a day of it.

Waverly strides single-mindedly down the sidewalk. The only bookstore in town is closing in ten minutes and her specially ordered copy of Homer’s “The Iliad” in Greek has just arrived. She’s imagining a night at home, curled in front of the fireplace…maybe a nice mug of mulled wine or hot chocolate in hand, as she happily makes her way through the epic tome. The familiar storefronts of Purgatory barely even register until she’s almost past the hip recycled pallet-board facade of the town’s newest business, a ridiculously unnecessary high-end hair salon, when a flash of red hair catches her eye. Waverly’s purposeful stride breaks with an almost comically audible screech.

Nicole and Waverly make eye contact through the front window of Haught Heads Hair, and Nicole offers a self-assured, dimpled smile. Waverly takes in her lanky frame, slouched casually in the salon chair, and her body moves of its own accord, turning for the door and reaching for the handle as if drawn closer by some sort of spell. Her practical mind screams _this is not the bookstore!_ as her body dismissively replies _Girl, I’m thirsty_.

Before she even knows what is happening Waverly finds herself standing at the front counter of the salon. She casts a look around. The reception desk is a solid slab of some exotic hardwood mounted on a iron plumbing pipe frame. Matching shelving displays tiny bottles of hair product alongside sleek matte-finished shampoos and conditioners. There are no prices visible because “if you have to ask…”

Nicole saunters over to the counter. Her gaydar is blaring as she assesses her gorgeous customer, eyes lingering on the the way the light brings out the natural highlights in her brunette hair before dropping to hungry hazel eyes. She leans forward casually, the position serving to flaunt her smooth collarbones and deep cleavage via her carelessly unbuttoned dark blue Henley. No matter that she’s a recent graduate of the Police Academy and has never combed more than her fingers through another woman’s hair. No matter that her sister has just gone to lunch, and will be back in no time, and went to actual beauty school, and REALLY wants to succeed in this town. No matter that Waverly looks like the perfect customer for her sister to demonstrate her skills upon…to send forth into the town with a beautiful new style with which to attract additional customers. No matter….Nicole is suddenly suffused with a confidence that’s dangerous at best.

 _How hard can this be?_ she thinks, _a couple of inches off the bottom or whatever._

“How may I help you today?” Nicole purrs.

Without breaking eye contact Waverly replies “I really need to do something new. Do you take walk-ins?”

She mirrors Nicole’s action, leaning forward onto the counter right into Nicole’s space, resting her elbow on the slab and pushing her fingers into the hair adjacent to her temple, tipping her head to one side.

Nicole is immediately distracted, her eye tracing the defined lines of Waverly’s bicep, the smooth definition of her flexors, her narrow wrist and the elegant fingers parting honey-colored hair. She absently notes blunt yet manicured fingernails sporting latte toned nail polish.

Waverly’s every move is calmly deliberate, like a lioness in a nature documentary, but her mind is screaming loudly at her. _THE BOOKSTORE. THE ILIAD. THIS WOMAN. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?_ If she’s being honest with herself, Waverly’s a little shaken by this total loss of self control. She’s a planner and she planned to buy her book today, and she planned to read it, and the only thing she didn’t plan was what her hot drink would be. Waverly actually thinks she can see her discipline crumbling out of the corner of her eye, but then she realizes what she’s seeing is Nicole lifting the counter for her to come in, gesturing towards the shampoo chair.

“You’re in luck, I happen to have an available appointment right now. I’m Nicole, by the way. How about we start with a wash?”

“Waverly,” Waverly smiles as she passes by on the way to the chair.

Nicole steals a glance at the clock. 12:45 and her sister is bound to be back soon. Nicole catches of whiff of…hops?…freshly cut grass and…is that fire? Waverly slips into the chair, and Nicole's mind goes blank. All potential repercussions once again fade away. Standing behind the shampoo sink, Nicole draws back the thick curtain of Waverly’s hair. Her hands feel like she’s submerged them in warm honey and an electric current travels up her arms, through her shoulders and into her chest. Resting the hair over one of Waverly’s shoulders, Nicole wraps a warm towel around Waverly’s neck and then gently guides her down into a reclining position, the hair cascading into the sink.

Nicole sets her phone out of the way nearby and lifts the spray nozzle, congratulating herself on having familiarized herself with her sister’s salon equipment during the construction of the place. She runs the water over her own hand until it reaches a pleasingly warm temperature.

“Let me know if this gets too hot,” Nicole prompts, smirking a little at the innuendo.

She begins at Waverly’s forehead and smooths the water through the length of Waverly’s hair. Waverly sighs comfortably and closes her eyes under Nicole’s gentle ministrations. It’s hypnotic, watching the water flow through darkening locks while surreptitiously tracing the lines of Waverly’s face. Nicole boldly maintains her gaze when Waverly’s eyes briefly open, and she momentarily looses herself in the deep hazel pools.

“That feels perfect,” Waverly murmurs.

Nicole looks around the sink area and spots a variety of shampoos. Setting down the spray nozzle, she grabs a narrow bottle with a wood grained effect, “Soothing Sunshine Herbal” in what can only be described as elven runes wrapping the container. She squeezes a portion of shampoo into her hand and, with one more gaze at Waverly’s beautifully relaxed visage, begins to gently massage the shampoo into her scalp.

As the gorgeous redheaded salon owner commences what Waverly feels to be the most erotic shampooing she has ever experienced, she lays out a plan in her mind. She’ll obviously need to have had an idea in mind when she walked into the salon. Maybe she’ll just request a couple inches off the bottom; with hair her length the loss will be negligible, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t want a good reason to come back to Haught Heads soon. She opens her mouth to make the requisite salon small talk with Nicole when the fingers on her scalp walk themselves around to the back of her head and begin caressing and kneading the hair closest to her neck. Waverly’s open mouth, primed for thoughtful dialogue, instead delivers a throaty…and frankly animalistic moan of pleasure.

Nicole briefly freezes as that moan travels right through her brain and into her groin. Heat pools in her nether regions, and the rest of her common sense throws in the towel and begins walking itself right out the door.

Nicole’s phone suddenly rings, startling them both. Nicole temporarily regains consciousness and again glances at the clock to see a half hour has passed. She looks down at the phone and sees her sister’s name flashing on the screen.

“Errr, I’m so sorry but I have to answer this. Please, just relax for a moment.” Nicole opens a warming drawer and removes a cucumber and lemongrass infused towel.

“If you don’t mind, this is part of our spa facial option…” she starts, and again can’t help but smirk knowingly.

Waverly smirks right back at her. The phone rings again and Nicole jumps, draping the towel over Waverly’s face just as Waverly’s tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Hello!” Nicole yells sharply into the phone. “Err, hello?” she tries again, moderating her tone.

“Hey Nicole…I am so sorry! Herman’s truck got stuck out in the field and we had to call a heavy duty tow to pull it out, and then the tow got stuck, and now Mama Olive seems to have gotten some kind of food poisoning. And…is everything ok there because I’m gonna be a while?”

“Yes, thank you,” Nicole replies shortly.

Her sister continues to ramble and Nicole watches Waverly out of the corner of her eye. The towel must be cooling down at this point, along with Waverly’s interest, and she’s eager to get off the phone.

“Absolutely, take your time,” Nicole cuts her sister off abruptly, and hangs up the phone, her sister’s voice still tinny in the receiver.

She lifts the towel from Waverly’s face and finds the hottest customer she’s ever seen looking up at her questioningly. Nicole smiles charmingly.

“Shall we rinse and condition?”

Well into the conditioning process Waverly has decided to feel Nicole out. She’s pretty sure the interest is mutual but you never know with confident straight women these days. Waverly’s comfortable with her sexuality but she’s not super experienced at taking the lead in these situations. She’s only twenty-one after all, and while she’s dated both men and women, she’s always been the one being asked out. Right now she’s more relaxed than she has ever been in a hair salon though, and she’s NEVER had a shampooing take 45 minutes. It seems pretty obvious to her that Nicole is drawing out this part of the process. She gathers her wits about her and careens into the unknown.

“So Nicole,” Waverly begins, “how long have you been styling hair? Is that even the appropriate term? I’m sorry, I’ve honestly never been to such a fancy…err, NICE place before.”

It occurs to her as she’s speaking that she has no idea how much this haircut will cost her and mentally crosses her fingers while tallying her Shorty’s tips.

“You’re my first customer,” Nicole replies smoothly. She’s not lying, anyhow.

“Well you’re obviously quite skilled with your hands,” Waverly states boldly, “Your fingers are like magic,” and she’s not lying either.

Nicole’s confidence builds as she replies “You should see how good I am with my hands when I don’t have both of them in your hair,” but suddenly thinks maybe, just maybe that crossed the line.

“What?” Waverly asks, sitting up slightly.

“Errr, nothing!” Nicole answers quickly.

She wraps Waverly’s hair in another warm towel and begins squeezing the water out of it. She’s feeling a little out of her element as she realizes that she has no idea what to do next. Does she comb out the hair? Brush it? Blow dry it? There’s so much of it. She realizes that she hadn’t thought much beyond her initial fantasy of washing the hair in warm water, then taking off all of her clothes and swimming out into the middle of the hot spring, naked, with an equally naked Waverly, and then…

She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts and focusing on her present conundrum. “Let’s move to the chair and then you can tell me what you had in mind for today.”

Waverly’s seated in front of the mirror and Nicole is combing out her hair. She’s gentle and slow about it and Waverly snaps her own mouth shut when she realizes that she’s gawking at the stylist like she’s a piece of meat. Nicole continues to take her time, hoping it’s not super obvious that she has no idea what she’s going to do next.

“Bangs,” Waverly decides suddenly.

“Bang?” Nicole looks up sharply.

“BANGS,” Waverly corrects, but she grins sweetly at Nicole’s mistake. “I’d like you to give me bangs.”

“Absolutely, that will look super hot…errr, very attractive on you,” Nicole replies, reaching for the scissors that her sister has conveniently laid out on a clean towel at the workstation. Here goes nothing.

“Close your eyes please.” Nicole combs a portion of Waverly’s hair forward, what she believes will be the appropriate amount for bangs, and cuts at an angle. About ten inches of hair falls to the ground. She runs the comb through it and moves it around. Making certain that Waverly’s eyes are still shut, Nicole makes convincing snipping noises with the scissors around the front of Waverly’s face. She then uses her fingers to muss up the hair in what she hopes will be a stylishly messy fashion, and reaches for the hairdryer.

“I’ll just blow you out,” Nicole says, and Waverly hums approvingly.

“Blow away,” she replies, pursing her lips.

There it is again, Waverly thinks. Blatant flirting.

As Nicole dries her hair Waverly asks, “So what other services do you offer here, besides hair styling and spa facial?”

Nicole looks around her sister’s salon and makes a note of the open area at the rear of the space. Her sister had mentioned putting a small lounge area there but Nicole is pretty certain that the few chairs along the front window are sufficient.

“We offer color, waxing and... oh yes, we also offer massage,” Nicole lies, and immediately hopes that Amazon Prime will deliver her new massage table to her cabin. “I actually see private clients for massage.”

“You do all of that?” Waverly asks, “I’ll definitely want to try some of those other services in the future.”

Nicole finishes blowing out Waverly’s hair and thanks whatever deity made that hair so gorgeous that Nicole’s hack job is barely evident. She leans in close beside Waverly’s neck and hands her a mirror, spinning the chair dramatically.

“I hope you like what you see,” Nicole says, her breath warm in Waverly’s ear, and they watch each other in the mirror as the chair turns.

Waverly leaves with a Haught Heads Hair card in hand, the phone number scratched out and Nicole’s cell phone number written on the back.

“Printing error,” Nicole explains apologetically, “and we have a thousand of them so…gimme a call. I’ll set you up with what you’re looking for.”

*************

A week later Nicole is leaving her day-long orientation at the Sheriff’s department. She’d been hired by Sheriff Nedley straight out of the academy and was looking forward to starting her career as a rural deputy. Once Nicole had decided on law enforcement as a career, she’d been on the fence between State Park Ranger or Police Officer. Purgatory Sheriff seemed to offer the best of both worlds: wide open spaces with the enforcement of hunting regulations and some animal wrangling combined with gritty small town policing. It didn’t hurt that the Tates had a small cabin on their property that Nicole could live in for free. The Tates were rich and eccentric, but also generous, and Nicole wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to put aside some money while also living in one of the country’s most beautiful regions.

The Sheriff’s office occupies a small building adjacent to the historic Purgatory Municipal Building, and Nicole ducks inside to drop off some of her employment paperwork at the City Clerk’s office. As she exits the building, her mind on her new job, Nicole runs bodily into Waverly, who is walking down the sidewalk with her nose in a book.

The book smashes into Waverly’s face as she impacts Nicole at approximately chest level. Nicole flings out her arms and automatically wraps them around Waverly as they both yelp in surprise. Once they regain their footing and composure, Waverly pinches the bridge of her nose where it smarts from the book spine strike.

“Oh my gosh, Waverly, I’m so sorry!” Nicole says, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you ok?”

Waverly immediately forgets the pain radiating through her face at the sight of the sexy redheaded salon owner. She’s spent the last week thinking of different reasons to revisit Haught Heads Hair and has several excuses on standby. A wax seemed too intimate and unpleasantly painful all at once. The facial sounded great but she wants to be able to look at Nicole at least some of the time. A massage is definitely on order, but Waverly’s decided that will be third or fourth appointment material. In the end, Waverly has settled on another hair treatment.

“Nicole! Am I glad to see you! I’ve been meaning to call you,” Waverly smiles. She looks questioningly around Nicole to the front door of the Municipal Offices.

“Business license,” Nicole blurts on the fly. “Errr, insurance information. I’m…dropping off. With the Clerk.”

“Ahhh, gotcha,” Waverly nods knowingly. “So I wanted to make another appointment. I think I want some color.”

Nicole considers Waverly’s gorgeous treacle locks. Even the bangs look good as they frame her interestingly chiseled cheekbones. She reaches out a hand and gently caresses the full length of a lock of hair. She’s a stylist after all; this is totally normal professional behavior. Waverly leans into the touch and sighs, as time momentarily freezes.

Nicole comes back to herself and realizes she should probably respond.

“Color…this?” she asks slowly, “Your hair color is so….incredible!” She catches herself; a salon owner wouldn’t deny their customer a service, and continues, “But I can absolutely see where some color would make this new cut even more amazing!”

The Tate family has left for a week-long camping trip. Tate style camping is more like “glamping” and they’ve rolled out of town in a caravan of luxury RVs towing small off-road bikes and other “necessities”. Nicole stayed home to finish her orientation, organize her new department issued gear and get ready to start work at the Sheriff’s Department. She has the run of the house, the keys to the salon, and absolutely no self control in the face of, well, Waverly.

Nicole whips out her phone; her confidence returning has returned in spades. “Did you want to make an appointment? How about tomorrow?”

“I have plenty of time,” she continues, “I mean it.” Nicole smiles dangerously, all deep dimples and flashing eyes, and Waverly melts. It’s not like she was going to say “no” anyhow.

“That sounds great,” Waverly replies, “I get off work at four. Can you do me at five?” Waverly adds a not-at-all suggestive wink to the query. I think I’ll need another wash too because my hair will smell like beer otherwise. It’s a guarantee, working at Shorty’s.”

“See you at five!” Nicole responds enthusiastically, “I can’t wait.”

Waverly watches the swing of Nicole’s hips as she strides confidently from the Municipal Offices, looking back once over her shoulder to smile and tip her ball cap her way. Interestingly, Nicole’s clad in tan cargo pants with a thick nylon belt, a black polo shirt and black Oakley boots today; it’s more cop than stylist but all of that is just background noise to Waverly. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

*************

It’s 5PM and Nicole has been at the salon for the past couple hours. Nina Simone croons on the speakers and towels warm in the drawer. More importantly, Nicole’s watched seven different YouTube videos on hair coloring and she’s pretty sure she can pull this off. She’s laid out the various products for the color job and has a convincing spiel to go along with it. Nicole’s freshening up her chapstick when the door opens and a vision in a red and blue knotted half-shirt walks in.

Time seems to slow to a crawl as Waverly enters Haught Heads. Nicole’s in a trance as Waverly flips her hair back off of her face and it waterfalls back over her shoulder. Toned arms lift to push her bangs back, in perfect harmony with the lyrics of ‘Black is the Color of My True Love’s Hair’.

“Hey Nicole!” Waverly greets her with a smile and a wave. Nicole snaps out of it.

 _I need to stop doing that_ she chastises herself.

“Hey Waverly,” Nicole hopes she sounds casual and sexy, because something about Waverly turns her into a hot gay mess, “are you ready to do something different?”

She gestures broadly to the hair coloring supplies set up at the workstation. As Waverly makes her way to the shampoo chair, Nicole quickly flips the “OPEN” sign on the front door to “CLOSED”, turning the lock for good measure.

“So I don’t know what you had in mind, but I have this new plant based color that I’d love to try?” Nicole hands Waverly a card with a variety of shades indicated.

Waverly considers the color options while peeking over the top of the card at Nicole. Today Nicole is clad in slim dark jeans, cuffed neatly over a pair of black brogue boots, a white tank top under a fitted light washed linen plaid shirt. The sleeves of the shirt are pushed up and Waverly finds herself appreciating toned forearms, the wrist of the left hand wrapped in a surprisingly tactical black wristwatch.

There’s a moment of silence between them while Waverly chooses a hair color and Nicole walks professionally around the salon, when a knock on the window interrupts the moment. Sheriff Nedley is outside and Nicole thanks her lucky stars as the Sheriff pauses just long enough to wave at Nicole, then continues on his way…assumably to the coffee shop that’s just a few store fronts down from the salon.

“Oh that’s so nice,” Waverly says, “Randy’s daughter Chrissy is my best friend. I assume you’ve met Sheriff Nedley since you’ve been here a while?”

“I have indeed,” Nicole replies, quickly changing the subject. “Have you chosen a color?”

Waverly points to a swatch of color. “Rose Gold,” she decides, “and I want just this area here.” She grabs a slender portion of her hair off the side of her head and pulls it forward.

“That’s all?” Nicole hopes her relief isn’t too obvious. She can dye a tiny streak of hair without fucking up too badly, right?

“I’m pretty particular about my hair and while I can tell that you are very skillful, I’m not sure I’m ready to go all the way yet, y’know?” Waverly’s eyes crinkle into a sly smile.

“I think that will look awesome! Let’s do it!” Nicole winks at Waverly and, placing her hand lightly on Waverly’s upper arm, leads her to the wash station. “Let’s start with a shampoo.”

Following another long, hot shampoo session Waverly is feeling pretty damned relaxed.

“So Nicole,” she prompts, “where are you from? I’m sure I hear a little Southern Comfort in that drawl.”

Nicole wasn’t expecting to have to come up with answers about real stuff. I didn’t think this through, she thinks for the fourth time.

“I’m actually from Georgia, most recently,” she replies. “I went to school there and then came out here to go to…to live because my sister is out here and has an awesome cabin I can stay in. Do you have any siblings?” She’s hoping it’s not obvious that she’s deflecting.

“I have a sister too! Wynonna. She works for a special division of the US Marshals actually. They have an office at the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.”

 _Well shit_ , thinks Nicole. _Of course she does_.

“So how did you come to open a salon in Purgatory of all places?”

Nicole decides small talk isn’t working for her, so she wraps the strand of hair she’s coloring and spins the chair, slotting her leg between Waverly’s and leaning well into her, pretending to inspect the top of her head for—something. The technique works, Waverly is overwhelmed by the proximity of Nicole’s body; she smells like vanilla donuts and sex, with an undertone of gunpowder, oddly enough. It renders her speechless.

“You have great hair,” Nicole breathes into the top of her head.

Waverly reaches out with her hand and lightly touches Nicole’s arm with her forefinger. She’s feeling confident when she says, “I am so glad you opened this place.”

While Nicole is cleaning up her station Waverly writes her phone number on Nicole’s $20 tip and slips it into Nicole’s hands before leaving. She’s hopeful the gesture is obvious enough.

************

A couple of days later Waverly is working the bar at Shorty’s when Chrissy walks in. The place is packed; it’s trivia night and the topic is livestock breeds. Waverly’s been hustling for the last couple hours, and it doesn’t help that every time she pauses for just a moment she’s transported back to the shampoo chair where Nicole’s dexterous fingers are sensually massaging her scalp while she gazes deeply into Waverly’s eyes. Waverly feels warm all over—decidedly hotter in some places than others, and Gus has smacked her with a towel on more than one occasion tonight to get her ass back on track.

Chrissy leans on the bar and runs her fingers through her hair. “Hey Waves!” Chrissy greets her enthusiastically, “Look what I did!”

Waverly immediately notices that Chrissy is sporting a very hip new hairdo, all beautifully blended, round layers. Her style looks thick and textured but at the same time, somehow streamlined.

“You look amazing!” Waverly exclaims.

“I treated myself to the new salon,” Chrissy admits, “Haught Heads. It was expensive but totally worth it. I feel different!”

“Oh my god, I went there too!” Waverly says, pulling a beer from the taps for Chrissy and sliding it across the bar to her. “I got bangs and this crazy streak of rose gold! What do you think?” Waverly twirls her rose gold strands around a finger.

Chrissy takes in Waverly’s new do. “I love it! And how cool is the stylist? I love her so much! To be honest, I didn’t think a high-end salon would do well in Purgatory, but I have to say…I will definitely be back!”

Waverly leans over the counter and stares her best friend in the eye. “Let’s talk about the stylist. Holy shit, right? How hot is she? And Jesus H. Fuck but the shampoo…I mean, I know it didn’t do anything special for you, but that was the sexiest shampooing I have ever experienced. I didn’t even know shampooing could be sexy! I even left her my number Chrissy, but she hasn’t called me yet!”

Chrissy pauses for a moment. She looks confused as she tips her head back and purses her lips, considering. “Sexy? I mean…I guess so?” Chrissy looks back at Waverly. “I didn’t really think she was your type. Didn’t you get kind of a soccer mom vibe from her? Plus I swear I saw a ring. But…that’s great Waves!”

Waverly shakes her head and is just about to answer Chrissy when a loud crashing noise comes from the crowded rear of the bar, followed by bellowing male voices and a ripple of activity that indicates the beginnings of a fist fight.

Gus runs through the swinging doors from the kitchen and catches Waverly leaning on the bar talking to Chrissy. “Waverly!” she shouts, “get a move on girl!” They both move towards the ruckus, Waverly tossing an apologetic shrug at her friend as she goes. Chrissy waves, grabs her beer and wades into the crowd.

************

Nicole still hasn’t called her. It’s been over two weeks but Waverly’s been so damned busy, between work, her online college curriculum and her entirely dysfunctional family, that she only now has found the time to run to the bookstore and grab her copy of “The Iliad”. Once again she’s hurrying there with minutes to spare when she passes by Haught Heads Hair and sees movement inside. She slows briefly thinking, maybe I’ll just pop in to say hi; she might gauge Nicole’s interest and maybe ask her out in person, but she comes to an abrupt halt when she notices a different stylist is working.

The red-haired stylist is older than Nicole, also tall and fit but definitely not Waverly’s type. This woman sports bedazzled Wranglers with a multi-colored Western shirt, not unlike something Waverly’s Aunt Gus would wear, and a pair of turquoise and black Ropers. The stylist waves at Waverly when she catches her looking through the window and Waverly makes note of a large diamond ring adorning the stylist’s left hand. Waverly politely returns the wave with a smile and continues on to the bookstore. She absently notes the incorrect phone number for the salon is painted on the front window in discrete gold leaf and wonders how much it will cost to fix the error.

An hour later she is comfortably ensconced on her sofa with a mug of mulled wine, the salon and Nicole’s radio silence forgotten along with everything else other than the pleasure of finally reading the epic poem in Greek.

************

Nicole is out on patrol with Nedley. It’s her first week of field training and she’s killing it. She’s already run down a shoplifter, used her patrol vehicle to pull a cow out of a muddy ditch and written four tickets for fishing without a license. Nedley is impressed with her stamina, discretion, problem solving and knowledge of the law and has told her as much. They’ve just finished up mediating a domestic dispute and although Nicole’s flying high from the resolution, she’s feeling a nagging guilt about the way she’s been handling the Waverly issue.

“Haught,” Nedley had said, “what’s one thing that you noticed I did while dealing with Steve and Maria just now?”

Nicole thought hard before replying. “You didn’t threaten to take anyone to jail, even though they were yelling and shoving each other when we got there. You just...directed them to talk about communication and honesty. It actually worked.” Nicole had added, reflectively.

“Sometimes folks just need to hear the truth,” Nedley lectured, “communication is key, Haught.” Nicole’s stomach dropped a little as she resolved to make things right with Waverly.

They’re just about to walk into the diner for lunch when Nicole’s cell phone rings. The ring tone is The Tremeloes “Here Comes my Baby” and Nicole blushes, scrambling for the mute button.

“Shit, I mean shoot!” she apologizes. “I’m sorry, sir, I thought I turned that off.”

Nedley looks at her disapprovingly. “You know how I feel about cell phones, Haught,” he scolds. “A cell phone is a distraction at any time, but especially for a patrol officer. A cell phone that is not silenced can be dangerous as well. What if we were on surveillance and your cell phone rang? I have to tell you though, I love that song.” Nedley smiles at Nicole. “I think you get the point. Let’s go eat.”

Nicole and Nedley walk into the diner, Nedley quizzing Nicole on department policy as they go. Nicole’s head is held high; she feels awesome in her uniform and good about her decision to just be honest with Waverly, and she tips her Stetson to an older couple exiting the diner, throwing in a disarmingly dimpled grin for good measure.

 _Purgatory won’t know what hit it_ , thinks Nedley. _I done good with this one._

************

Waverly leans on her elbow at Shorty’s. She’s on her break and her neck is killing her. A massage is just what she needs, and Nicole is just the person to work out all these...kinks. Waverly just knows that Nicole is into her, and she’s not worried about being too persistent. She pulls up the salon in her contacts and presses to call. The phone rings and rings eventually going to voicemail.

“Hey there, you’ve reached Nicole, go ahead and leave a message and I’ll get with you later.” Waverly can almost see Nicole’s wide grin when she closes her eyes, listening to the message.

At the beep Waverly says, “Hey Nicole, it’s Waverly. Waverly Earp. So listen, I really need a massage. My neck, shoulders and lower back are killing me and I’ve been thinking about how you said you offer that at Haught Heads? So give me a call back and let me know what works for you. I have Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off. OK cool, talk to you soon I hope. Bye!”

Waverly hangs up and raises both arms above her head, gripping her hands together and stretching. She groans as her tight shoulders pop.

“I really need to stop hunching over the computer,’ she says to herself, out loud.

Waverly places both hands on the edge of the bar top and leans forwards, her head dropping between her shoulders, stretching her glutes and hamstrings while rolling her neck side to side.

As the warmth of the stretch settles in her muscles, Waverly thinks about Nicole. She looks around the empty bar. She thinks about Nicole’s satiny voice on the answering machine, and imagines herself nude on the massage table, Nicole leaning over her in a low-cut sleeveless top, her muscles flexing and her gorgeous cleavage on display. Waverly bends further into the stretch and feels her thighs spreading apart. She imagines Nicole behind her, rubbing fragranced oil onto her palms before applying light strokes to her lower back. Waverly can almost feel Nicole digging her dexterous thumbs into the muscles just above her ass. She splays her fingertips along Waverly’s hips and strokes firmly from Waverly’s tailbone up her spine.

Waverly leans over to grip her ankles, stretching out her tight calves. Fantasy Nicole pulls Waverly into her hips, and bend herself over Waverly’s back, her long hands running around Waverly’s abdominal muscles, tickling their way up to her breasts. Waverly can feel her nipples hardening and sighs appreciatively.

“That feels so good,” she breathes out, running her own hands up her thighs and cupping her breasts.

“You really need to get laid, Babygirl.”

Waverly almost jumps out of her skin. She thought she was alone in the bar and the last thing she expected was Wynonna’s voice mocking her, apparently out of thin air.

“Jesus, Wynonna, wear a bell!” Waverly admonishes, placing a hand over her heart.

She blushes, straightening her clothing and crossing her arms over her chest. Reflexively, she pours her sister three shots of Jack Daniels and sets them up on the bar. Wynonna settles herself on a stool and considers Waverly. She holds up her fist.

“One,” she raises her thumb and takes a shot of whiskey, “I heard you on the phone and you’re gonna PAY for a massage. Two,” she raises the next finger and downs the second shot of whiskey, “you’re sex-massage-talking to yourself and three,” the middle finger rises up to join the other two and the last shot of whiskey goes down the hatch, “you’re twenty-fucking-one years old and smokin’ hot. You should be having all the sex. Aren’t there any hot prospects at commuter college?”

Waverly gives Wynonna a hard look and realizes something’s different.

“Holy shit, Wynonna, you changed your hair!”

“I went to the new place, Haught Heads. A little bang goes a long way,” Wynonna quips with a smirk, and Waverly realizes that’s what’s happened; Wynonna has had just enough trimmed off the front to change her look entirely. “And that’s exactly what I was talking about before you so rudely changed the subject…you getting banged?”

“Well speaking of that,” Waverly starts, “what did you think of the stylist? I think she’s hot as fuck and I was thinking about asking her out. I mean, the vibe was definitely there…she made eyes at me the entire time and the shampooing….ho-l-y fuuuuuuu….”

Wynonna leans back on her barstool and frowns. “I mean, if you’re asking for the lulz then ha ha Babygirl. She’s married and kinda old for you too?”

Waverly realizes that Wynonna must have seen the other stylist. “Oh shit, no, Wynonna. There’s that one but then there’s another younger stylist. They both have red hair but the one I’m talking about is not married and I’m pretty sure she’s into me. Did you know they offered massage? That’s who I was leaving the voicemail for actually: Nicole, the other stylist.”

“Huh,” says Wynonna. “ I got the impression it was a one-woman operation when she was doing my hair, and she didn’t say anything about having massage, but she did say her sister just started at the Sheriff’s Department as a new deputy.”

“Ehh,” Waverly flips her hand dismissively, “you need to see Nicole. Then you’ll know why I need a massage from her.” She winks suggestively and pours a couple more shots. They laugh and Waverly steals one from the line, downing it with her sister. “Tell me about Dolls!”

 

************

Four hours later Nicole is at home on her couch. She’s listened to Waverly’s voicemail fifteen times and decided to come clean. She really needs to be focusing on her Sheriff’s department career and she doesn’t have time to continue this charade, but she does want to let Waverly know that she would REALLY like to take her out for a drink and she hopes Waverly sees the humor in their situation. The phone rings twice and Waverly’s soft sexy voice comes over the line.

Waverly’s not ashamed of herself; she’s programmed the phone number for Haught Heads Hair into her cell, so when the phone rings she knows exactly who is calling, and her tone is deliberate.

“Hey, Nicole,” Waverly purrs sweetly, “am I glad to hear from you.”

There’s a moment of silence as the line hums and Nicole swallows her own tongue. Her mouth is dry, her hands are hot and her underwear is suddenly soaked. From a phone call. _What the actual fuck is happening to me?_ she thinks.

“Hi, Waverly,” she manages to reply, and somehow the Sahara desert in her throat produces a seductively gritty undertone to her words that in turn, reduce Waverly to jelly.

“I, uhh,” Waverly starts just as Nicole says, “So you…”

They laugh in unison and the tension is gone.

“Go ahead,” offers Waverly.

In the midst of the flirtatious banter, responsibility has gone out the window and Nicole’s mind can only focus on one thing: what Waverly wants.

She hears herself saying, “So you wanted to schedule a massage? How ‘bout Monday at 5PM? But, uh, the thing is…I don’t come in to the salon on Mondays. I do see private clients at my cabin, if that’s ok with you?”

Nicole provides an address a little ways out of town on the Tate Family Ranch. Waverly again notices Nicole’s soft Southern drawl, and it makes her want to stick her tongue into Nicole’s mouth to taste the molasses right from the source. At this point, Nicole could be doing massages in the bathroom of the gas station for all Waverly cares.

“That sounds perfect,” sings Waverly, “I’ll see you then. Byeee.”

Nicole puts down her phone and immediately realizes what she’s done. _Not again! Fuck!_

Nicole thinks she must be possessed by some kind of super horny demon that only comes out to play when Waverly is involved. Nicole looks at her brand new massage table, folded in a corner of her apartment. She sighs and cracks open her laptop, bringing up YouTube. Massage must be easier to learn than hair coloring, at least. She types “Massage tutorials” into the search bar and settles in for a long night of online learning.

************

Saturday morning Chrissy arrives at the Homestead to pick Waverly up for brunch. They make idle chit-chat as they drive through town; Chrissy points out the new cafe where they’re heading and Waverly remarks wryly about how gentrification has come to Purgatory. The cafe features a variety of avocado toasts, most of them vegan, and Waverly is excited for breakfast options aside from the meat-laden “Big Rancher Special Platter” at the diner. They’re seated in the window, Waverly happily munching her cucumber, tomato and Sriracha toast while Chrissy pokes suspiciously at her kale and egg toast.

“I figured avocado toast would be like...pancakes,” Chrissy remarks, confused. “Like...it was just a metaphor for bread on the side.”

Waverly stares open mouthed at her friend for a moment before a flash of red catches the corner of her vision. She peers through the picture window and sees Nicole walking out the front door of the police station.

“Chrissy!” Waverly shrieks excitedly. “That’s her! The hot redheaded salon owner! I wonder what she was doing at the police station...”

Chrissy leans over to look through the window, just catching the back side of Nicole as she loops around the side of the building to where the employees park their personal vehicles.

“No, Waves,” Chrissy says, “She looks like her but that’s the new deputy. Her sister is the owner of Haught Heads. Don’t you think she’s, like...less soccer mom? Hotter for sure, and her name is Nicole. But she doesn’t work at the hair salon. She’s training with daddy right now but she’s about to go solo.” Chrissy laughs, “Trust me, I would know if she was also a stylist.”

Waverly’s toast lies forgotten on the plate and her brow is furrowed as she thinks hard. Nicole’s only ever been at the salon alone, and no other customers have ever shown up during Waverly’s appointments. The other stylist, Nicole’s sister apparently, has been working in the shop every other time Waverly passed by. Both Wynonna and Chrissy got their hair styled by Nicole’s sister, not Nicole. The phone number on the window has never been corrected. Waverly recalls the surprisingly tactical watch Nicole wore while coloring her hair, not to mention her attire that day outside the municipal building.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Waverly breathes out. “She’s not even a stylist! That sneaky…” Waverly stops, admiring the genius of Nicole’s actions. Chrissy just stares at her.

“She’s the new deputy but she pretended to be a stylist so she could spend time with me.” Waverly explains. “And now I’ve made an appointment for a massage out at her cabin.”

“She seems really nice,” Chrissy ekes out, “Daddy’s really impressed with her.”

Waverly takes a large bite of her avocado toast and chews reflectively. “Two can play at this game Chris...and I really need a massage.”

Waverly and Chrissy devolve into giggles as Waverly describes her plan.

************

Waverly drives her Jeep over a well-maintained gravel road onto the Tate Ranch property. The mountains form a scenic backdrop to a spectacular ranch house, surrounded by acres of premium grassland. Beef cattle dot the bucolic landscape. Nicole told her to drive past the main house about a mile to get to her cabin.

Waverly pulls up in front of the cottage and parks her Jeep next to a slightly beat up Toyota Landcruiser. The cabin is adorable, it’s essentially a miniature version of the big ranch house, made of logs with cute window boxes out front.

She considers the Landcruiser. The Yakima Load Warrior on top is decorated with stickers from brew pubs, motorcycle shops and bicycle stores all over the country. A rainbow sticker in the shape of the state of Georgia is affixed to one rear window. Waverly smiles knowingly, opens her trunk and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

Nicole’s ready when Waverly knocks at the cabin door. She’s watched YouTube and stretched her fingers. She’s purchased vegan Aphrodite's massage oil via Amazon Prime and had it delivered just in time. Her massage table is in what would normally be her office, soft music is playing and the room is dim with the lights turned down. She is ready to play the part of professional massage therapist when Waverly knocks on the door.

Nicole opens the door calmly and meditatively, and promptly hisses in pain when the bright light outside hits her eyes. She peeks through her fingers to find Waverly smiling at her.

“Are you OK?” Waverly jokes, “because I really want you to be able to see what you’re doing today.”

Nicole recovers immediately, “I’m just fine, c’mon in,” she drawls, pulling Waverly into the cabin by her hand. Waverly takes in Massage Therapist Nicole’s outfit appreciatively, hip hugging dark gray pants and yet another sleeveless shirt.

Once inside the cabin Waverly looks around and Nicole looks at her. Waverly’s wearing loose-fitting high waisted linen pants with a tight crop top. Her toned abs are, as usual, on display. Waverly holds up the Jack Daniels and wiggles it back and forth.

“I thought we could have a drink? I’ve never had a massage before and it was a long day at work. We could relax a little?”

Nicole can’t help but think that a little liquid courage is just what she needs. She fetches a couple of shot glasses and Waverly sets them up. A couple of drinks later they’re both languid and relaxed.

Waverly lays on her stomach on the massage table, her muscles loose from the effects of the whiskey. A light sheet covers her lower body and it smells faintly of fresh air and wildflowers; she imagines Nicole hanging it on the clothesline to dry, before laying it out just for her.

Nicole stands next to the table and stares at Waverly. Her entire body thrums with energy. She drizzles warm oil into her hands and rubs them together. She feels like she’s jumping off a cliff as she leans forward and places her hands on Waverly’s lower back. Waverly sighs audibly.

Nicole concentrates on her YouTube massage school lessons. She applies light strokes to warm up Waverly’s lower back, rubbing gently with her fingers. She recalls the video instructor in his Yoga briefs intoning, “this will prepare the client for more vigorous rubbing.”

After about five minutes Nicole begins pushing her hands upward along the middle of Waverly’s spine, then coasting them down her sides. In her mind she sees the Yogi demonstrating on his prone client, “the blood flows upward toward the heart.”

Nicole repeats this in what she hopes is a suitably earth-hippie tone of voice, and almost stops short when Waverly replies in a low voice, “That’s super wierd Nicole, because my blood is definitely flowing away from my heart right now.”

“I must be doing it wrong,” Nicole flirts.

“Oh no, you’re doing it absolutely right,”

Nicole transitions into what she’s learned is called petrissage, making circular kneading rotations with her hands.

“We’re only just getting started.”

Waverly moans into the action, “God Nicole, that feels amazing.”

Nicole alternates the deeper kneading with light strokes for a few minutes before moving on to the area at the top of Waverly ass.

“Waves,” she explains quietly, “I’m gonna work your lower back now.”

Waverly hums her consent as Nicole slides both hands down Waverly’s side, passing over her buttocks and then continuing along her hamstrings, lightly pressing outward so that Waverly spreads her thighs slightly. She places her thumbs in the center of the lowest part of her back, splaying her fingers out to the sides. She presses down and slides her thumbs up the middle of Waverly’s back. Waverly groans in pleasure.

“Nicole….ahhhhhhh,” is all Waverly can get out before Nicole’s slid her hands back down and repeated the movement. After a few moments of this, however, Waverly can’t control herself any longer. She brings her hand back and reaches toward Nicole, hovering over her just like she’d imagined in privacy several times before. Her fingertips graze Nicole’s thigh and even through the light touch she can feel how firm the muscles are there. Waverly curls her fingers around Nicole’s pantleg and tugs lightly.

“Come closer, do my shoulders?” Waverly requests, and Nicole’s not going to deny her anything at this point. Waverly is a drug that must only be taken transdermally and Nicole is addicted. She’s lightly sweating from either the contact or the effort, and she sits up, pulling her shirt off so that she’s only wearing her sports bra.

 _I’d work out in this top_ , she thinks, _so this is still totally appropriate...and professional._

Nicole moves to stand in front of Waverly. She applies more warm oil to her hands and begins to massage Waverly’s upper back and shoulders. Waverly’s head is turned to the side and she opens her eyes just long enough to catch a glimpse of a toned long torso and full hips, a tight oblique muscle just above the waistband of Nicole’s pants. Heat pools in her stomach and she feels herself actually drooling.

“Does this feel good?” Nicole asks unnecessarily; Waverly’s melting like butter under her touch and a deep blush has spread over her shoulders.

Nicole’s trying to decide if she should continue conversation or not when she feels a slim hand on the outside of her thigh. The hand travels up her leg and around her backside and when she looks down, Waverly’s got both hands off the table and is pulling Nicole closer to her by a soft grip on her ass.

“Please don’t stop, Nicole,” Waverly says softly, and Nicole tries to focus on giving Waverly the professional massage that Nicole promised her, which becomes increasingly difficult as Waverly squeezes and strokes her ass.

Nicole’s strong as hell, that’s pretty obvious, thinks Waverly, as she runs her hands freely along Nicole’s lower back, down over her ass and along her hamstrings.

She can feel Nicole trembling lightly and she smirks into the sheets; she knows exactly what she’s doing to Nicole and she loves every moment of it. She wants to see just how long she can tease Nicole before she gives up this pretense of being a professional massage therapist and they can really get to it.

“Nicole, I have this knot at about the middle of my back, can you work that area please?”

As Nicole leans over her to look for the knot, her sensitive fingers running along Waverly’s spine, Waverly slides her hand up along the waistband of Nicole’s pants and slips a finger inside. She runs the finger around from the back to the front and uses another finger to draw a circle around Nicole’s tight navel. Nicole gasps audibly. “You’re making it hard to concentrate Waverly,” Nicole admonishes, but there’s heat in her voice and it only serves to inflame Waverly further. Waverly slides her entire hand into the front of Nicole’s pants and splays her palm around Nicole’s hip, she tugs Nicole to the side of the table and rolls slightly onto her own side, her breasts coming into glorious view. Waverly’s other hand comes up and traces a line down Nicole’s jaw.

“You’re so, so good at this Nicole, but I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m here for a different kind of relaxation technique.” Waverly smiles up at Nicole and there’s no question what she’s asking for but nonetheless, chivalry proves itself to be alive and well when Nicole asks, “Are you sure Waverly?”

“So very sure,” and Waverly pulls Nicole into a deep kiss.

************

Nicole can’t believe this is happening. _I’m kissing Waverly_ , she thinks, _I’m touching her and she definitely wants to have sex with me. This is the best day of my life._ The massage table is getting awkward to work around, though, and Nicole wants more space. Without breaking their kiss she slips her hands under the back of Waverly’s thighs and lifts her up. The sheet that had been meant to discreetly cover Waverly’s ass pools on the floor, and Waverly wraps strong legs around Nicole’s waist. Nicole carries Waverly, clad only in sheer white bikini underwear, into her bedroom. She manages to keep them both upright as she kisses up Waverly’s throat to behind her ear. Waverly makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a purr, places both her hands on the side of Nicole’s face and pulls her back in to her lips. Their noses bump as Nicole walks towards the bed, but neither can find it in them to care.

Suddenly Nicole freezes. She’d forgotten when she came up with this elaborate scheme, that her entire Purgatory Sheriff’s Department uniform is hanging on the outside of the closet door. Her blood runs cold and her eyes widen, then drop to the floor. _I’ve fucked up the best thing to happen to me in maybe foreve_ r, she thinks sadly, when she feels a warm hand on her face. Nicole looks back at Waverly, surprised to see a good-humored smile on her lips.

“I know Nicole. I know about your job and everything else. We’re gonna talk about this, but not right now. I—I like you, and I want this. Do you?”

“Oh I do, Waverly.” Relief intermingles with hot desire in Nicole’s chest and she lowers Waverly down to sit on the edge of her bed. She drops to her knees in front of Waverly. “I just want to say, though...I’m sorry. I was gonna tell you the truth and explain myself, but to be honest,” she laughs throatily, “when I get around you I kinda lose my mind.”

Waverly smirks at her and trails a finger along the edge of Nicole’s jaw, hooking it under Nicole’s chin and tugging lightly. She runs the fingertips of her other hand down her almost entirely unclothed body. “Nicole,” she says slowly, “didn’t I say not right now?”

Nicole doesn’t need to be told twice. She leans in to resume kissing Waverly’s neck and chest, running the tip of her tongue just below Waverly’s hard nipple and drawing a deep inhalation from her.

Waverly reaches boldly for the edge of Nicole’s sports bra, and tugs. Nicole leans back and lifts her arms so Waverly can remove the offending item of clothing and toss it into the corner of the room. Nicole runs both hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face, and then her palms resume their journey up Waverly’s sides. Nicole leans back in to kiss Waverly, and Waverly meets her gladly, sliding her tongue into Nicole’s mouth.

Waverly curls her hands around the sides of Nicole’s full breasts. Her thumbs lightly stroke the nipples until they harden under her touch. She rolls the nipples between her fingers until Nicole is growling into her mouth. Nicole presses into her, still on her knees at the foot of the bed, and Waverly scoots back, forcing Nicole to follow after her, not unwillingly, on hands and knees. Waverly puts both hands on Nicole’s chest and pushes her back lightly.

Nicole’s eyes are wide and unfocused. She’s panting and so turned on that she can feel herself throbbing against the lightweight sweatpants she’s wearing. She shakes her head lightly, coming back to herself, feeling Waverly’s hands on her chest holding her back. “Is this..are you ok?” Nicole grits out, and she’s relieved to see Waverly looking just as hot and bothered as she feels.

Waverly tugs at the drawstring of Nicole’s pants, “Take these off,” she says, and she’s telling not begging. “I want to feel you against me.”

Nicole moves to get off the bed when Waverly speaks again. “Wait Nicole, no,” she orders, “let me take them off you.”

Nicole sits back on her heels. She watches as Waverly sits up on her elbows, abs flexing, pushing herself back to lean against the headboard. Waverly unties the bow at the front of her pants and slips her fingers inside the pants. Nicole’s hair falls back over her face as she watches, hypnotized by Waverly’s thumbs sliding down the front of her pants, while the other fingers curl into the waistband.

“Lift up, Nicole, please? I want to touch you.”

Nicole looks up at Waverly and sees her lids lowered, her tongue poking out to wet her lips, desire written hot on her face. Nicole places both hands on the headboard behind Waverly, and lifts up so that Waverly can slide her pants down over her hips to about mid-thigh.

“No underwear,” Waverly observes wryly. “Feeling lucky?”

Before Nicole can come up with a smartass response, her breath is coming out in a hot exhale. Waverly has slid a clever thumb right down the front of her body and is pressing lightly against Nicole’s clit, while simultaneously tipping her head back and drawing Nicole’s nipple between her teeth. Her other hand has slid around and is kneading Nicole’s ass, the action serving to grind her own stomach against Nicole’s hot wetness.

“I really want to fuck you Nicole. You stay right there though, I want to watch you on top of me. Is that OK?”

Nicole can only nod dumbly; she’s never been in this position before and all of a sudden every woman she’s ever had sex with is relegated to pillow princess status. It’s all she can do to maintain her grip on the headboard, her mind is screaming at her to take charge. She’s totally lost control of this situation and…she loves it. She pants hard through gritted teeth, watching Waverly’s lips as they close around first one nipple, then the other, licking and biting until they’re swollen and red. Waverly’s hands are small but strong and she runs one up Nicole’s side and down her back, around her ass and over the front of her thighs, while the other teases her clit and tickles the crease of her thigh.

Waverly moves from Nicole’s breasts to her chest and collarbone, then up Nicole’s neck, sucking and biting until Nicole throws her head back with a whimper. She can’t help herself when she chases Waverly’s lips and they kiss each other hard until Nicole can’t stand it anymore.

Nicole’s held in place by her pants stretched tightly across her legs, as she straddles Waverly on the bed. She moves a hand from the headboard to remove the pants and Waverly stops her with a firm grip.

“What are you doing, huh? I told you not to move.”

Nicole’s shocked, to be honest she didn’t expect Waverly to be so…dominant? She almost can’t believe what she’s hearing when she opens her mouth and says, “Please, Waves, let me take these off. I want to feel you under me. I want you to make me feel good.”

Waverly looks at Nicole with a hot glint in her eye, “Go ahead, baby,” and Nicole feels Waverly’s slick fingers, sliding through her and cupping her between her thighs. She clenches hard at the use of the nickname.

She quickly divests herself of the pants, crawling back up the bed towards Waverly. She pauses with her hands hovering over Waverly’s hips until a nod of consent allows her to remove Waverly’s own soaked underwear.

“Ahhh, Waves…” Nicole starts, feeling the desire in her hand through the thin silky cloth.

“I know baby,” Waverly finishes for her. “Get up here.”

This time, however, Nicole can’t help herself. She drops her head and presses her nose to Waverly’s stomach. She breathes in the scent that is Waverly, aroused, and can’t help tasting her just a little, then lifting her eyes to make eye contact with Waverly, she moves up her body, slipping a leg between Waverly’s.

Nicole’s tongue flicks out here and there, dipping into a navel, encircling a nipple, tracing Waverly’s throat as her head falls back. Nicole runs the tip of her tongue along Waverly’s lower lip, then runs the tip of her nose up the bridge of Waverly’s, and grabs the headboard, her biceps flexing. Her forehead rests against Waverly’s and they lock eyes as Waverly reaches around the back of Nicole’s head and grasps her hair firmly. She pulls Nicole into her mouth for a hard kiss and Nicole can’t help but groan in pleasure. Her hips are trying to thrust forward, and she can feel a slick mess coating Waverly’s thigh when at last relief comes to her.

Waverly runs her hand down the back of Nicole’s head and over her bicep, drawing a shiver from Nicole when her fingernails trail from shoulder to forearm. She slides the other hand along Nicole’s stomach and through tight trimmed curls into wet heat. Nicole sighs then gasps, kissing Waverly deeply, as Waverly slides two fingers deep into her.

Nicole finds herself riding Waverly’s hand for all she’s worth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she exhaling a stream-of-consciousness monologue consisting primarily of prayers intermingled with profanity. Waverly watches her, her own desire throbbing hard between her thighs, until she can tell Nicole’s close to climax. A light sheen of sweat coats the middle of her back and a flush has spread down her chest when Waverly slips out of her and places her hand flat on Nicole’s chest. Nicole grips the headboard so tightly that it pulls away from the wall.

“What is it?” she asks breathlessly, still rocking slightly above Waverly’s prone form. “Is everything okay? Is something wrong?”

Waverly places a single wet finger to Nicole’s lips. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Remember when I came to the salon and asked you what other services you offered besides hair styling?”

“Uh huh,” Nicole answers dumbly, and her mind is having such a hard time catching up with her heart rate and her libido that she’s barely following this line of conversation.

“You told me you offered facials,” Waverly purses her lips at Nicole, raking her gaze unashamedly down Nicole’s body, “And I would really like a facial.”

Nicole’s mouth drops open and she looks at Waverly, eyes wide.

“Nicole,” Waverly continues, fingers prodding at Nicole’s hips, “come closer.” She then makes her intent abundantly clear when she slides a hand under the inside of Nicole’s thigh and tugs her leg higher up the bed, until Nicole is awkwardly straddling Waverly at a diagonal.

Waverly leans over and runs her tongue as far up Nicole’s inner thigh as their position will allow, and Nicole moves. She’s regained her confidence, all of this feels great and Waverly’s take-charge attitude leaves her no questions about consent or mutual desire. Nicole slides her other leg up to bracket Waverly’s face, and settles over Waverly’s warm mouth, head hung low with sweaty hair in her face, watching as Waverly nibbles, licks and kisses her way between her thighs.

“Fuuuuuck, Waverly,” Nicole groans, and she can’t help herself, because Waverly is looking up at her with big sexy eyes, and has simultaneously sucked Nicole’s clit between her teeth. Waverly’s hands run up the outside of Nicole’s thigh, dipping along her side and up to her breasts, which she cups and squeezes. Nicole grinds down into Waverly’s face and feels that talented tongue slip up and through to the inside of her sex.

Waverly’s eyes practically roll back in her head. Sex with Nicole is every bit as hot as she imagined it would be and she tastes amazing; Waverly can’t stop watching Nicole’s toned body flex and bend over her, even if her view is a little cross-eyed at this point. Her hands wander freely, touching firm muscles under smooth skin. She encourages Nicole to rise up slightly, via a strategic tap on her ass, and then slides her own hand under Nicole’s thigh and into her own heat. She spreads her first and middle fingers on either side of her own clit and squeezes it lightly while sliding it through the slickness that coats her, all the way out to her thighs.

Nicole didn’t think she could get any more aroused until, seeking to open herself wider to Waverly’s eager tongue, she releases the headboard, bends back at her middle and rests her hands behind her on Waverly’s toned quads. She casts a look over her shoulder and sees Waverly stroking herself while still pleasuring Nicole with her mouth. Nicole lifts and grinds against Waverly’s face, using her powerful glutes and legs to keep herself slightly elevated above Waverly. But it’s the single glimpse Nicole catches of Waverly’s wet fingers slipping and sliding, teasing her own clit with a pointed fingertip, that tips Nicole over the edge. She comes with a cry, her blunt nails digging into Waverly’s quads.

Waverly cuts her no slack, flicking her tongue rapidly over Nicole’s swollen clit until the sensations threaten to overwhelm Nicole. She pulls back and slides herself down Waverly’s body, craving the friction to help bring her down from the overstimulation, without losing the contact right away. After a few minutes, her mind still blown, Nicole knows what she needs and wants. She’s trembling but very much in control as she quickly dismounts Waverly and, before Waverly knows what is happening, Nicole has rocked back on her heels, knelt between her knees and placed both her palms flat on Waverly’s stomach.

Waverly looks at Nicole and smiles, her fingers never stopping their slide as she moves a hand up to cup her own breast. Combined with the sight of Waverly continuing to touch herself, Nicole thinks that she’s never seen a sunny angelic smile that dirty in her entire life. Sliding a clever middle finger down to her center and into herself, Waverly nods slightly at Nicole with her lips parted just a smidge, and Nicole drops, licking her way down Waverly’s muscular abs, and down between her thighs. In case there was any doubt where this was headed, Nicole sits up to her full height and raises Waverly’s left leg, placing it over her shoulder. The new position opens Waverly up to her and, as Waverly continues to use her first two fingers to tease her own clit, Nicole runs three fingers through slick, hot flesh, then plunges within.

Nicole puts her hip behind the thrusts, and she’s not being gentle, but judging from the unwavering eye contact, the hard grunts of pleasure, and the fingers clawing mindlessly down her tricep, she’s chosen wisely.

“Fuck yeah, Nicole...yeah...harder, like that,” Waverly gasps out, throwing her hands behind her blindly until she finds the edges of the headboard and grabs on. Nicole’s never been happier to have not bought a platform bed in her whole damn life.

To be honest, thinks Waverly, she was nearly there before Nicole started ploughing her into oblivion. Watching and tasting as Nicole got off on her face, and now seeing the intense concentration in Nicole’s whole body as she fucking dominates Waverly with a combination of a hard arm and soft fingertips, all backed by a muscular thrusting hip...yeah, Waverly’s there. She keens out a cry and a hand flies off the headboard and claws its way down Nicole’s back as she comes hard. Nicole strokes her way out of Waverly, gently lowers her leg to the bed, then collapses on top of her, panting.

After a few minutes Waverly can feel her arms again and encircles Nicole’s back with them. She tries for speech but can’t yet, so they lie there until their breathing evens out and Waverly starts to feel cool.

As if sensing this Nicole reaches down to the foot of the bed and pulls up a quilt, wrapping them up in it and resting her head on Waverly’s chest. After a long moment Waverly begins to laugh and Nicole looks up at her, concerned.

“What’s funny, Waves?” she asks, and Waverly laughs harder.

“Nicole,” Waverly smiles, giggling throughout, “do you want to go on a date with me?”


End file.
